La belle chienne sans souci

My husband accused me of using Lola as a crutch late Saturday night.

The fact that my immediate response was righteous (?) indignation, tells me he has a point.  And perhaps, a good one.

It's ok to be sad, it's ok to miss her, but I need to get unstuck.

So, Sunday morning, I got up and cleaned the kitchen with a vengeance.  Because it seemed like something to do.  And I shredded documents.  Lots of them.  And got rid of a dead plant in the front room that has been dead for... months?

Basically, I'm trying to get my living space to less resemble my emotional state - at the moment,both are cluttered and a little dusty.

And I need to eat better, exercise more, and basically give my mental and physical states the reboot they so desperately need.

To say nothing of no longer using Lola as a crutch.

This dog, however, might be just what the doctor ordered:

Maybe I just need a therapy animal?